


Conquered

by blue_ringed_octopus



Category: Original Work
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Identity Reveal, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Older Man/Younger Man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-25 23:54:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19756339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_ringed_octopus/pseuds/blue_ringed_octopus
Summary: He had seen forty winters, and he’d led armies into battle during the Reclamations. So yes – he’d seen some things in his time. Perhaps he should have suspected. Perhaps he should haveknown.But fact of the matter is – he didn’t. Not at all. Not until their wedding night and they were alone in the royal bedchamber.Not until the blushing virgin bride he’d just taken to wife before God tried to stab him through the heart.





	Conquered

He had seen forty winters, and he’d led armies into battle during the Reclamations. So yes – he’d seen some things in his time. Perhaps he should have suspected. Perhaps he should have _known_.

But fact of the matter is – he didn’t. Not at all. Not until their wedding night and they were alone in the royal bedchamber.

Not until the blushing virgin bride he’d just taken to wife before God tried to stab him through the heart.

* * *

The Reclamations were over. God’s own people had taken back the land which was theirs by divine right, and the Infidel king had been executed. By beheading. His Majesty, Prince Augustine had wielded the killing blade himself.

The Infidel king had surrendered in the end. He had not fought to the death. He said he did it to save the lives of his people, his family. He pleaded for mercy.

Augustine was not a cruel man. He accepted the Infidel king’s surrender and extended the hand of mercy to any Infidel who would pledge allegiance to his throne. They were a conquered people; they need not be humiliated as well. But neither was Augustine a foolish man. To secure their loyalty, he would marry the Infidel king’s young – and only – daughter.

The Infidel princess’s name was Hafsa. She was fourteen years old and flowered. But she was still a maiden.

* * *

“This is a fortuitous turn of events!” the wise men said. “Prince Augustine has been so long at war that he has never wed, and he is not even known to have fathered any illegitimate children.”

“Truth be told,” Augustine admitted with a shrug, “I’ve never enjoyed the intimate company of _anyone_ very much…”

The wise men in their ceremonial state robes cleared their throats and shifted from foot to foot, uncomfortable.

Ah well. It couldn’t be helped, could it? Augustine would be crowned King of the Reclaimed Lands, and he would do his duty for the good of the kingdom. Yes, he would just have to make do.

* * *

The princess and her retinue arrived at the castle before the next moon. Per the custom of her people, she was heavily cloaked and veiled. Only her face and her hands were visible.

The wise men were pleased. Her face was pleasant, and her hands were deft and graceful. Even with the concealing layers of clothing, it was obvious that she was short and slight…but not _too_ slight for childbearing. And best of all? Her bearing – humble and demure. She spoke rarely and never raised her voice when she did. On those rare occasions she did speak, her voice was a low murmur hardly louder than a whisper.

A conquered princess indeed for their newly-crowned king.

“Come again?” Augustine shouted over the loud singing of the chapel choir. Hafsa had spoken, but as usual he had not heard her words. He leaned in closer.

“I was merely expressing my regret that I do not understand this singing, my Lord,” Hafsa said.

Augustine chuckled. “That’s two of us, then. Truth be told, the choir has always sounded like cats being slaughtered to me.”

The characterization was fair. To his surprise, Hafsa burst into laughter. It was possibly the loudest Augustine had heard her in their four weeks together thus far – they had been together practically nonstop during their waking hours – and it was a beautifully bright, infectious sound. Augustine joined her in her laughter.

“Only two more weeks of pre-wedding festivities to endure,” he said. “After that, you have my leave to plead illness whenever the choir is set to perform.”

Hafsa smiled and rested her cheek gently against Augustine’s shoulder. He stroked the top of her veiled head, imagining the long, shining locks of hair which must lay beneath.

(Afterwards, the Choir Master couldn’t have been more pleased. His Majesty had never before looked so enchanted by a performance of his original compositions.)

* * *

Two weeks later, the wedding night of King Augustine and his new Queen.

Hafsa trembled as Augustine unwound her veil from her head. He was gentle, infinitely gentle, and patient and slow – he’d seen forty winters and she but fourteen, after all, and it was his responsibility to make this good for both of them.

Her shining hair was as beautiful as he’d imagined. He ran his fingers through it and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. They were the sweet satin of rose petals. She reciprocated the kiss, first tentatively, then with increasing confidence, moaning with pleasure into his mouth. Augustine, who had rarely wanted to bed anyone was suddenly consumed with need.

“Shall I carry you?” he asked.

Hafsa blushed and nodded. She did not speak.

Augustine lifted his new bride onto their marital bed, laid her down, and joined her. He began open her voluminous cloaks. It was like unwrapping a package containing something precious and fragile at its center – an eggshell, perhaps, painted in silver and gold leaf to celebrate the Resurrection. He was so intent upon his labors, in fact, that he almost didn’t notice the dagger—

“What is this?!” Augustine cried as he grabbed Hafsa by the wrist of the hand which held the dagger and pulled it up over her head. He was much stronger than she; she could not resist him.

She shouted something in her native tongue; her voice was much deeper and rougher than Augustine would have expected—

“Come again?!” he cried as he pulled her from the bed and onto her feet—

A dull clatter as an end table was overturned and a shattering crash as an expensive china vase broke on the floor—

And the rest of Hafsa’s clothing fell away to reveal the straight, spare body of…of…a boy. Nay, a handsome young man, the penis between his legs stiff and proud, like a second dagger, ready to pierce Augustine—

And the castle guards, having heard the commotion, burst through the bedchamber door.

* * *

It had been done to avenge the death of his father…and to protect his little sister.

The wise men counseled public execution for treason, but Augustine wanted to speak to the prisoner first. He was confined but well taken care of – Augustine had made certain of that. He didn’t look at Augustine when the king entered.

“You’re Harun,” he began without preamble.

“Yes,” Harun replied shortly.

“And where is the Princess Hafsa?”

“Hidden. _Safe._ ” Harun did look at Augustine then, and his expression was fierce.

“I’m glad.”

Augustine said nothing further. The silence between them lengthened. Harun’s fierceness seemed to decay into sadness. His pretty hands were curled into white-knuckled fists.

Augustine sighed and spoke. “We are wed, Harun. I vowed before God to protect and cherish you forever. I…I would keep that vow, if you let me. And…and I think…perhaps…” – he reached out to stroke Harun’s cheek, remembering the unequivocal evidence of his arousal on their wedding night – “…perhaps you’d like to let me.”

Tears spilled from Harun eyes, but he said nothing. Eventually, Augustine took his leave.

* * *

Three days later, Augustine’s bride was liberated from confinement and escorted to the royal bedchamber for the evening.

They were _loud_. The entire castle heard their laughter and shouts of ecstasy.

When they emerged in the morning, the ruling monarchs of the Reclaimed Lands ushered in an era of peace and prosperity for _all_ of its peoples – both the conquering and the conquered.


End file.
